


The blessing of sleep

by buhwhydoe



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fire, Fluff, Insomnia, Intimacy, Sleep, Snuggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26909551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buhwhydoe/pseuds/buhwhydoe
Summary: "It had been centuries since he slept peacefully, without dreams. And even then, good sleep had been elusive, taunting him with only a few hours of bliss before he awoke, unable to slip back into tranquil unconsciousness.Of course, I had known about his insomnia, but never the full extent of its cruelty. It was only after an unremarkable night together that I truly understood how afflicted he had been by the lack of this simple, universal right. The right to rest."Written from Persephone's viewpoint, narrating an uneventful night between them that turned out to be monumental in their paths together. I wanted to write about aspects of their relationship that are rooted in simple companionship, and how the effect of moments like this can be just as influential as grand, dramatic events.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Hades/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 77





	The blessing of sleep

It had been centuries since he slept peacefully, without dreams. And even then, good sleep had been elusive, taunting him with only a few hours of bliss before he awoke, unable to slip back into tranquil unconsciousness. 

Of course, I had known about his insomnia, but never the full extent of its cruelty. It was only after an unremarkable night together that I truly understood how afflicted he had been by the lack of this simple, universal right. The right to rest.

The week leading up to it had been taxing on both of us. Through the weeks spent learning at his side, I had come to grasp more of the wide breadth of his responsibilities—and how it seemed that no other being in existence had as much on their shoulders as he. I struggled to keep up, to prove myself, and hoped he wouldn’t notice and admonish me for exerting myself too much. By Friday, I was confident that my cheerful facade had not betrayed the overwhelming wave of, well, everything that had come bearing down upon me.

But in his perceptive way, he had come into my office soon before work hours ended, his warm eyes crinkled with kindness.

“Have any plans tonight, Sweetness?”

I blinked up at him, startled. Slowly, I felt myself smiling and shaking my head. He returned my smile, and I felt my heartbeat begin to hasten.

We ended up going to his house, with the promise of eight wuffling snouts and a vegetarian home cooked meal. How could I resist? We greeted the dogs together, doling out pats and scratches between us. Was it doubly overwhelming, I wondered, when he was the sole recipient of eight canine balls of chaotic excitement?

We worked together in the kitchen, talking about trivial things now and then. A companionable silence hung between us for most of the time that it took to chop the ingredients and whip up something delicious with them. It had been a while since our first kiss, and the memories of his lovely mouth sent a wave of warmth coursing through my veins. That day, the air had snapped with an electricity that had rippled in the rain as our heated voices were carried away by the whipping wind. And finally, when our lips touched, I felt that electricity coax some kind of wonderful, inhuman death, that chilled and warmed me to my very core.

That Friday night was different. There was no electricity, no tension and unspoken dynamic wary of waters to be toed. Instead, it felt as though between us lazily meandered a river of warm, soft candlelight, languid and relaxed. It was comforting.

After dinner, it had felt natural to move to the couch, where Hades had built a cozy fire in his hearth. It had felt even more natural for me to recline against him, and for his arms to wrap around my shoulders. When we would later lovingly reminisce on this monumental evening, it became apparent that neither of us had been thinking with much intent, so at ease with each other in the quiet warmth.

We talked, of course, about little things, topics that flitted in and out inconsequentially, like butterflies passing through a sun-dappled forest. Soon enough, we were sprawled out on his huge couch, and his hands were on my face, caressing me with the warmest and gentlest of touches. And I had finally told him, somewhat shyly, of how I love his scent of cedar and smoke. I had not understood, then, the magnitude of how my words affected him, or why his eyes had suddenly glistened with unshed tears. 

I kissed him then, of course. And just like the entire night had been, everything felt so warm, and comforting, and natural. We were now on some delightful raft that was idly making its way down the river of candlelight. I remember that it had occurred to me in those moments that it was strange how this man, this being, could make me feel so safe and yet vulnerable at the same time. How his caressing touches warmed me with so deep a desire I did not have the vocabulary to understand it, and yet his soft lips disarmed me into a languid exuberance where I was so content with his presence, his proximity, and the unhurriedness of his kisses.

I realized later on that we had been born to be opposites, companions that fit together as two different and yet complementary pieces of some ornate puzzle. I would learn to expect contrast and dichotomy in our lives. I would learn to embrace it.

At some point, we had fallen asleep, nestled in each other’s arms. When I think of that night now, I still feel my heart flutter, that familiar warmth seeping into every nook and cranny of my being. It continues to strike me, how simple and unassuming a night it had been, and yet how it had changed everything.

When we awoke together many hours later, the fire extinguished, the dogs snoring happily in scattered piles around us, there was an unspoken understanding that had blossomed between us. He had known, and I had known.

If it would not be him, it would be no one else for me. Unbeknownst to each other, we had suffered similarly from the absence of rest, of deep, tranquil sleep. Our bodies had given each other some kind of intangible gift. 

He had decided, on that Saturday morning, that he would offer me half of his kingdom. All for the gift I had given him. The blessing of repose, peaceful rest, in the arms of one whom you know is yours, fated, for eternity.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write about aspects of their relationship that are rooted in simple companionship, and how the effect of moments like this can be just as influential as grand, dramatic events. I also really wanted to explore an intimacy between them that shows how their bodies respond to each other in gentle, loving, and intuitive ways. And of course, from personal experience with a partner, sleep (or waking up) can be so much better with someone you love by your side.


End file.
